Someplace I've Never Been
by Zeppelin Skies
Summary: Castiel takes on Sam's insanity after the Leviathans mishap. His mind becomes a mixed bag of Lucifer sightings, even while under a coma. So it takes a reluctant friend of the Winchesters to keep him grounded, and maybe help him figure out what being human's all about. He doesn't mind her, really. She let him keep the bees. [Castiel/OC, background Dean/OC, and some Sam/Sarah].
1. Bite the Bleeding Bullet

**AN: This story can be read as a stand-alone, but is actually a companion and finale of sorts to** _ **Do You Recall**_ **,** _ **What it Takes**_ **, and** _ **Leather & Lace**_ **. This one's actually meant to put an end to it all. Since** _ **Leather & Lace **_**is a series of one-shots, I'll probably continue to update that whenever I get requests.**

 **While Val is featured in those stories and reading them would help you understand her character better, it isn't crucial for you to have read them.**

 **It'll become obvious where in season 7 we're starting off from (episode 10, "Death's Door"), but with some notable twists. The main difference from canon so far is that Dean has been in a serious relationship for almost five years, and has a three-year-old daughter because of it.**

* * *

 **Someplace I've Never Been**

 **.**

 _"There you go_  
 _Slipping away into a state of grace_  
 _Drifting away into your sacred place_  
 _Someplace that I've never been."_

 ** _Billy Joel, "State of Grace"_**

 _Chapter I:_ **"Bite the Bleeding Bullet"**

The freak in Room 008.

That's what they called him.

Valerie knew because the patients that were allowed to leave their rooms (and a few wary staff) were all whispering, blatantly staring at her since she was the only one not pissing herself at the thought of coming in and out of the room for more than a few minutes.

She'd first started volunteering here only a few days after he'd "officially" been checked in. That whole thing was questionable in itself, because when they found him he'd been tearing up another patient's room.

No one remembered him entering the building. There was no evidence for it, not even on the many security cameras installed in the place.

But the reason she was here every day after work (and most Saturday mornings), the _real_ reason, was because of him.

It seemed…wrong to see him this way, sedated and connected to machines that somehow gave his vitals. _Do angels have vitals_ , she wondered, _or is it the poor bastard he's lying in?_

Either way, the guy seemed to be in one hell of a coma.

Though you probably would be too, if you thought you were being tortured by Satan himself. She still couldn't even begin to imagine it…

While sitting in a too-small chair by his bed, she looked up from her laptop. She stared at his stubbled face, at the bags under his closed eyes and dry, cracked lips with no small amount of resentment.

"How long am I going to have to babysit your fruitloop ass?" she muttered. It was her own fault, she guessed, for getting into this in the first place.

Actually, no. Who did she really, _really_ blame for this shitty gig?

It all happened not two months ago, and she'd been asking herself the same damn question.

* * *

 _ **Two Months Before.**_

It had to be bad. Val had a feeling the moment she got the call, but the last thing she wanted to do after driving two hours out to Sioux City was get screamed at by a Winchester.

" _Noooo!_ "

"I told you, after we saw Rapunzel and Eugene," for the _third time in a row_ , "it's time for _bed_. Now, let's put away these toys and brush your teeth."

She was rewarded with a toddler's deafening screech at the top of her tiny (but frighteningly powerful) lungs.

 _Oh, for fuck's sake_ , Val thought miserably.

"Kid," she complained while trying to wrangle the TV remote away, "I can feel my ear drums hemorrhaging. Let's turn down the dial on the hysterics, all right?"

Eventually adult and three-year-old came to a consensus, and little Annie Winchester stayed still long enough for Val to brush all of three front teeth and a diaper change before she let loose another ear-shattering tantrum at the prospect of taking off her ravioli-stained sundress.

 _Why the hell am I here?_ Val wondered, not for the first time. It certainly wouldn't be the last time if Dean Winchester's little brat didn't let Val put her damn jammies on.

"Vallieee," came the long and whining protest after the cartoon dino pajamas were on (the girl had two main obsessions: dinosaurs and most Disney princesses).

"Yes, Ann Marie," Val sighed as she tried pulling the covers over her. Annie kept kicking her feet and obstinately wiggling in place—ridiculously cute in theory, but quite the hassle when you were trying to achieve tucking-in status.

"Wan' Mommy," she whined, with her big green-blue eyes and hair coming out of her ponytail to fall in her pouting face. She had her father's pouty lips too.

Val couldn't help it. She melted.

"I know, sweetheart." She tucked strands of Annie's blondish hair behind her ears. There was a time when she had seen this little girl nearly every day, had changed loads more shitty diapers, and didn't hate the girl's mother.

"Your mom had to go see your Uncle Bobby," Val reminded her (for probably the two thousandth time). "He's really sick, remember?"

"Daddy…"

"Daddy's there too, and Uncle Sam."

"But, but—I wan'," Annie again struggled to get out of her crib, but Val gently held her hands away from the railing.

"Mommy's gunna be home soon, your dad too," she promised, but she felt like she was trying to climb Everest without a line here. "Wanna read a story? Come on, let's read a story."

It was another two hours before Val could stare down at a sleeping child clutching her stuffed panda bear. Annie had named him Ted when Dean first bought it for her. Ted the panda, _not_ the demented Bostonian teddy bear.

"Your mom," Val finally whispered, barely letting the words come out, "is hella inconsiderate."

It had only been three months. Three _months_ since it happened, and Val thought she'd made herself pretty clear: she didn't want to see that lying, two-faced woman, nor did she want anything to do with Winchesters and their world of crazy shit-fest.

Three months ago, after the worst series of twenty-four hours in Val's thirty-one years of living, she had decided to make a clean break. From everything.

After sitting her ten-year-old brother Matt down for a long talk, she quit her secretary job at a crusty old museum in Hill City, South Dakota, packed their collective shit, and moved close to her aunt in Sioux Falls. It was a long-ass move to tiny two-bedroom in a rather questionable area of town, but it was more freeing that she thought it'd be to get a substitute teaching gig in the local school district.

Matt got on the soccer team, and Val joined a kickboxing class. All was good, or at least starting to be.

And then she got a call from Elena Hayes, her former best friend and close associate of the monster hunting brothers Winchester.

" _I'm sorry…" There was a pause on the other line. Val heard a shuddering breath._

" _I know that you…I know I shouldn't be calling."_

" _Then why are you?" Val asked flatly, anger making her jaw clench._

" _Something's happened, and I—I didn't know who else to…" A heavy sigh. "Look, I_ _ **know**_ _this is a shitty move, but I need your help—"_

" _Well I'm done helping you," said Val. "I don't know what else you could possibly want from me—"_

" _Bobby's been shot."_

 _Her hand nearly went slack, along with her jaw._

" _Wh…what?"_

" _Sam and Dean got him to a hospital in New Jersey. He's in intensive care, but I have to go see him." Another heavy pause. "I can't bring Annie though…it's not safe."_

" _Why?"_

"… _It's a long story. Honestly, the less you…"_

" _The less I know, the better?" Val finished for her. "Really. We're_ _ **really**_ _going back to that? Your goddamn_ _ **party line**_ _?"_

" _This time, it really is safer that way," Elena said, gently, but Val can hear that she's tired, and probably anxious._

Val knew Bobby. Once upon a time she'd lived in Sioux Falls, went to the same middle school as Elena until her family moved east. Elena sat alone at lunch. Val liked talking, no matter who was listening. Elena hadn't liked the oatmeal cream pies her mom packed for her lunch, and with a health-nut vegan of a mother, Val would've sold her pinkie finger for something with fructose and empty calories.

Their friendship had started immediately, easily, with Val doing most of the talking and Elena doing most of the laughing and occasional eye rolling.

Back then her mother had discouraged their friendship, only because everyone knew Elena Hayes's uncle was the town drunk. Val remembered that was the only time her mother and her aunt ever agreed on anything, but it was also the first time Val had found something to spite her mother with. Something she couldn't control.

When they hung out at Singer Salvage after school, when Elena's dad was out of town on some "hunting trip" (Val had always thought it weird that a retired policeman would be going on so many trips alone), Bobby had always cleared enough books and newspapers from the couch to let them watch TV and drink soda and order whatever takeout they wanted as long as they found a garbage can to stick the empty cans and cartons in, and _if you know what's good for you don't touch anything on the shelves…or the brown bottles in the fridge_.

The man was gruff, always been a little surly and looked a lot sad, but even when Val was too young to really know about loss or grief, she had never seen Bobby Singer as anything other than a widower who had spent too many years trying to get over _something_.

" _ **Holy**_ _—? Shit!_ " she gasped when she heard the old pipes in the house rattle. It took her several minutes just to _breathe_ , in and out, and remember that they were due for a storm tonight.

She made her way to the front door, tentatively lifted the "welcome" mat and saw that the red spray-painted Devil's Trap was still intact. So were the sigils on the wall covered by strategically placed picture frames.

"Hoo, you're a little crazy tonight," Val patted her chest, all too aware of her heartbeat. "That's okay, it's _aaall_ okay."

She went back to the couch in the living room and raised the volume on a rerun of _F.R.I.E.N.D.S._ , enough to drown out the wind a bit more, but not enough to wake up the kid (she checked the baby monitor by her side).

"Relax, Jesus," she muttered to herself, letting out a long breath. There was a canister of salt on the coffee table, along with three entire bottles of holy water.

A muscle in her arm spasmed for a moment as a nervous chill rattled up her spine and the back of the neck. She hated that feeling of pin-prickling, like her skin almost didn't feel like her own, or felt too much like it. Like she was too self-aware.

She supposed that was just what happened when you knew monsters were real.

* * *

 _ **Somewhere in New Jersey**_

.

.

"We're sorry to ask, but did your uncle make his wishes known with regards to organ donation?"

 _What the_ _ **fuck**_ _?_

Dean's face must've betrayed his thoughts, because the hospital staff person (he really didn't give a flying fuck who this suit-and-tie, glasses-wearing pencil pusher was supposed to be) continued on.

"Organs are only viable for a limited window—" he started to explain, but Dean's brain made a short stop at _viable_ , and the way he repeated the word pretty much should've gotten his incredulity (and mounting rage) across.

"We're just hoping some good can come of this tragic sit—"

"You listen to me, and I'm only gunna say this once," he warned, and leaned in close so the shorter man would see the threat in his eyes and know what he was liable to do if this guy got any more lippy about lobbing out the organs of people still living, and fighting to live.

"He's not gunna die," Dean said, with all the rage and fear and killing urges pent up inside, "It's _one_ ,bullet _._ He's gunna be fine, because he's _always_ fine."

"I apologize," the staff person tried to say—

"Why are you talking to me like he's gunna die, huh?" His voice was echoing in the hallway. Nurses making their rounds and the nearby secretary froze in their tasks, but even if he'd noticed, he wouldn't have given a damn. His blood was boiling, everything within him telling him to rip something apart, and soon.

"I do _my_ job. Do _your_ jobs. _**S** **ave him**_ _!_ "

"Of-of course, they're doing all they can—" Dean's fist smashed the glass pane behind the shaking man with a ragged punch. When his hand came away bloody, the staff person's eyes widened behind his glasses with obvious fear.

Then Dean heard it, harried steps turning the corner and getting closer. His girlfriend came into view, clutching her keys and obviously searching for something, or more likely, someone. She spotted him and immediately started down the hall. He finally took notice of the staff person in front of him, who was clearly afraid and waiting for him to either knock him out or let him go.

"Walk away from me." Still frozen, the guy hesitated at the order.

" _Now!_ " Dean barked, just in time for Elena to watch the small man hurry off with his clipboard.

"Hey, what was _that?_ " she asked, frowning at him when he wouldn't let her see his bloody hand. He found her waist with his better one and brought her close.

"Nothin', don't worry about it." But she clutched the lapels of his jacket and stared up at him with deep worry. She would handle whatever that was later, but for right now she needed answers.

"How bad is it? Where is he? Where's Sam—"

"Look, right now it's…it's not good. But he's fighting," Dean said. He cupped the side of her face, tracing her cheek with his thumb. Her wide gray eyes were welling with tears…but she looked down at his other hand, took it in both of hers. She sighed heavily at the blood and scratches.

"God, what did you do?" she murmured, turning it over in search of glass fragments in his skin.

"There's Sam right there—Sam!" Dean called over her head. His brother's mop of brown hair whipped around and there he was, taking long strides toward them.

"Hey," he greeted Elena, and she spared one hand to grab his arm. "Hey, how is he?"

"Why don't you take her over. I just, uh," Dean said, looking from his bloody hand to his brother's eyes. "I need some air."

Without waiting for a reply, he slipped out of Elena's grasp and stepped out the back exit, leaving the other two to watch him go. Sam sighed, but reached for Elena's shoulder anyway.

"Come on, he's down this way."

"Sam, first tell me how bad it is," she pleaded, grabbing his arm in earnest. "Your brother didn't tell me anything. What _happened_?"

Sam sighed again. She could tell he was trying his best to hold in the stress and worry for her sake, but she knew him to well for that.

"It's…it got dodgy," he said. "We had to break him out of a den full of leviathans. Dick was hot on our heels, and uh…he shot at us while we were getting out of there. We didn't realize it 'til later…"

Elena slid her hands into her hair as she looked heavenward, biting her lower lip in effort to keep herself under control.

"But they're managing it?" she asked. "They're gunna get it out, right? The bullet?"

* * *

Sam hesitated. He didn't want to work Elena up more than she already was. She looked a bit of a mess, long pieces of hair falling out of a hairclip, no makeup, and she was wearing one of Dean's old shirts over some yoga pants. She looked like she'd made the twenty-hour drive from Sioux City to New Jersey without stopping, and knowing her, she just might have.

She stared at Sam while he tried to think of something to say, but from the look on her face, she seemed to give up on the prospect of getting the answers she wanted from him, at least for the moment. She sighed loudly and threw up her hands. Instead of grilling him like he knew she probably wanted to, she started toward the back exit Dean had gone through.

"What the hell is Dean doing out there? I'm just, I'm gunna check on him—"

The door opened and the man himself came through, leading Elena away from the doors.

"Don't go out there, 's not safe," his tone boded no argument.

"Why, what's—"

"Dick," Dean replied tersely. The rage was still in his eyes, but Elena could tell he was making an effort to put a clamp on it. "Dick Roman. He's out there."

The head Dick of all leviathans. In other words, the ancient and exceedingly nasty evil that managed to shoehorn themselves out of Purgatory via a very disturbed and desperate angel of the Lord, was quite literally at their doorstep.

" _What?_ " Sam exclaimed. "What'd he want?"

"Nothin'," Dean set a comforting hand on Elena's back. She leaned into him, was worried for him as much as she was frustrated by their ever-declining situation. "For now. Was just a…friggin' staring contest. That's it. Look, I uh…I need somethin'. Some coffee."

He offered to get Elena one, and she agreed when Sam finally agreed to take her over to Bobby.

* * *

They had to watch from outside his room. It was too small, too many wires and tubes and it made her sick.

Elena hadn't always been close to her uncle. After she moved away, after her mom…she didn't think about what she left behind. She didn't think she _had_ left anything behind, except for Val.

They'd met up again in college, both struggling through to getting a paper certificate while trying not to starve. But Bobby…she hadn't seen him in some ten odd years before she called—her dad had gone missing, three weeks on a "hunting" trip. Bobby had been tackling something of his own with Rufus, so he'd sent Sam and Dean. In the end, her dad hadn't made it out alive, but Bobby still drove across however many states he'd had to until he was at her door, and hugged her like she had a right to call him family.

Ever since, he'd been a part of her life. An _important_ part. To the point where she couldn't see raising her daughter without having an Uncle Bobby to bring her books and old toys from the 70s that no child should be playing with.

And seeing him now, so weak, it wasn't fair. You weren't supposed to see your heroes fall.

"Sam," her voice cracked when she spoke. Sam turned his sorry gaze down at her, and he took his hands out of his pockets so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders. He tucked her close, at his side.

"They're waiting to take the bullet out, because he might not survive the surgery," he confessed. "But he's breathing on his own, so…so it's a good sign."

Elena heard it before she saw it—Bobby's heart monitor spiking, his heart rate suddenly dropping.

" _What's happening?!_ "

Sam's shouts for help, the nurses swarming in calling for a doctor and shouting out instructions to one another, it all passed by Elena frozen in shock and dread. Dean came running, led her away from the window and steadied her when her legs failed her.

 _What's happening?_

* * *

Two days later, Val opened the front door (checking the sigils under the rugs first) to Sam and Elena. Annie was damn hyper about it, nearly tripped Val down the stairs to get to them in time.

While Elena scooped up her daughter and calmed her down, Val watched Sam lug in a large duffel and a bag of Chinese takeout.

"I cooked," she informed him. It was just mac and cheese, but he didn't have to know that yet. Sam just set the duffel down on the floor and offered her a nod on the way to the kitchen.

"We already ate on the road. This's just garbage," he explained, and tossed the full-to-bursting paper bag in the trash bin. No doubt it was full of his and Elena's meals from the past twenty-four hours it took to get them from New Jersey back to South Dakota.

"So how is he? How's Bobby?" Val asked, turning back to Elena. She froze with Annie in her arms and a deer-in-the-headlights look on her face. Val saw how she shared a look with Sam, who eventually cleared his throat.

"Hey," he started, "why don't you grab some more clothes for yourself, some for Dean. I'll get Annie's stuff." He offered to take Annie, who happily went into her uncle's strong arms. Elena gave him what looked like a grateful look as she climbed up the stairs alone. She was moving kind of slow, Val noticed. But she looked to Sam expectantly, still waiting for an answer. No one was leaving her in the dark anymore.

* * *

"He's okay now," Sam admitted. He smoothed down the back of Annie's hair (his giant hand basically spanned her whole head) and rubbed her back. She clung to him with sleepy eyes, like she was finally able to relax now that most of her family was here. Sometimes Sam still marveled that his brother had a three-year-old kid. Dean and Elena had only been seriously dating for barely a year when it happened—an accident-turned-happy-accident, of course. But Sam hadn't gotten to meet his niece until after he'd been saved from Hell…when he was still soulless.

In a way, Sam hadn't gotten a chance to be a part of his brother's new family life until after he got his soul back, and he and Annie had a connection the minute she asked him (more with a lot of pushing and shoving and garbled baby talk than actual words) to read her _Winnie the Pooh_. He'd even pulled his weight with dirty diapers and baths and playground trips, at least, before he and Dean were on the road again to try and stop Castiel and Crowley from opening Purgatory.

Even with all that, it was just part of his life now, being an "Uncle Sam."

"That's good," Val breathed, bringing Sam out of his more lighthearted thoughts. Then he was forced to be reminded about the reason he was here, and how much there still was to do, and the fact that Bobby was…

"Well, he's stable," he shook his head. He motioned for Val to follow him while they made their way to Annie's room upstairs.

* * *

"So they were able to do the surgery?" she asked. Sam started pulling some of Annie's clothes from her dresser, all while he was still holding her.

"He made it through but, uh…" Sam's lips pursed, tugging down into a frown. He let a small shoe hang out of his hand while his mind seemed to go very far away. Val just watched, feeling a small twist in her gut. She had known Bobby a long time, sure, but if Elena in fact told her the truth, that man was practically a father to Sam and Dean Winchester.

What could someone like him be thinking, she wondered, to have such a haunted look on his face?

"Taking the bullet out did some damage," he finally confessed. He kept his grip on Annie while he packed her clothes and supplies, along with a few toys, books (he knew her favorites, Val noted with approval), and of course Ted the panda. All went in a large tote bag Val had bought for her last Christmas.

"But he's okay," Val said, though her voice was more uncertain than she'd wanted it to be.

"He's…he won't be able to walk. At least for a while." Sam straightened then, letting out a long breath through his nose. "And he's having trouble…ah, but anyway. He's alive. That's all that matters."

Val held in the next thousand questions she wanted to ask, because as much as she didn't particularly like the Winchesters as of late, she had a shred of consideration. Instead, she asked the more obvious question.

"What's next then?"

"Dean stayed with him, so Elena and I are going back," he said, and slung the pink and white tote bag over his shoulder. "When he's ready, we'll bring him home."

Val frowned. It was obvious that they were going to take Annie with them.

"I thought it wasn't safe," she whispered. Sam just shook his head.

"We've got it under control now."

She had to wonder.

Val later watched them pack up Elena's '82 Camaro full with duffel bags. She still maintained that a car seat on an old thing like that was wrong, the whole thing was impractical for a family car. But she understood why Elena never sold it.

Sam was already in the driver's seat with Annie in the backseat by the time Val and Elena were standing together awkwardly on the porch.

"I've gotta sub an English class in Emerson County tomorrow morning," Val said, else she would probably (however reluctantly) have agreed to stay longer, or even go see Bobby herself.

"It's great, you know," Elena smiled a little, "that you're teaching now. Never thought you'd willingly step foot back on a school grounds."

"I've gone through a lotta hoops to get where I'm at now, to get Matt resituated," Val said frankly. The other woman's smile faded.

"I just want to know how dangerous it is, these…these _leviathan_ things you guys are fighting," she continued. "I get that it's bad, that they can look like people…"

She had seen a serial murdering Sam and Dean on the news, and it had taken a while for Elena and the brothers to explain that one before Val called the cops on them.

"Val, you really don't want to know the details," Elena sighed. "What I've told you should be enough for you to avoid getting on anyone's radar."

"You've told me to basically kick sugar and fat from my diet, that's nothing new," Val snarked, but Elena stayed firm.

"Sam and Dean are working on it, that's all I can tell you." Dean was working on the final clue Bobby could provide before the surgery as they spoke, but Val didn't know anything about that.

"All right, _fine_. Just know I can't keep dropping all my shit for Winchester family crises," Val shot back testily. "I don't care if we still live in the same state, I meant what I said before—"

"This is the last time." Elena agreed, looking down at the dusty porch floor. "After this…you won't hear from me again."

It was something about the look in her eyes, the slight slump in her shoulders…Val thought she looked too tired to make another cross-country trip. It eased her anger a bit, knowing Elena had a long and shitty near-future ahead.

"What're you gunna do?" Val asked.

Sam and Dean had to stay on the front lines, but Elena confessed that after Bobby was able to leave the hospital, they were going to go into hiding with Annie back here in Sioux City. Dean and Elena's house was painted with several warding sigils and cloaking spells, and the panic room in the basement that Bobby built the year before just might be strong enough to keep out a second apocalypse.

"About Bobby," Val said. She couldn't help but think of that man…the one who apparently hadn't been a man at all. The one she'd barely got a glimpse of, but often still saw in her nightmares when she dreamt of that night. But he only showed up in the better ones, where she was already in the hospital.

"The guy who helped me, back at that hospital…couldn't he—"

"Castiel's gone," Elena said. Her face was blank, but it was the heaviness in her eyes that gave her old sadness away.

"Where did he go?" Val asked. Elena's mouth quirked at something, definitely not a smile.

"You could say he made one too many shady deals, one that made him bite off more than he could chew."

Val was sorry to think that Blue Eyes, the literal _angel_ that saved her family, could be lost. Or more likely dead.

"Look," Elena said, and she met Val's gaze for the first time in the whole conversation. Her gray eyes were serious. "Don't trust anyone. Never let on that you know anything about things that aren't human, and _especially_ don't drop the name Winchester."

Val looked at her for a while, wondering how the fuck this became her life.

"You say that like it's a curse."

"It's not, but right now it's not safe," Elena said. She shook her head, smiling dryly to herself as she headed to the car. Val couldn't help it, she had to ask.

"Is that why you and Dean never got married? I mean, for _real_ ," she said. "Not with that fake-ass Whitman persona you live under."

Elena paused just as she was about to open the passenger seat door. Sam watched her from the driver's seat, looking a little impatient, but waiting all the same. She got in anyway, and Val was off not too much later in her Honda Accord.

* * *

Val held onto that promise, that she would be able to move on in peace.

"I want more bacon," Matt argued. Her brother was becoming a bottomless pit, and she feared the growth spurt that she had a feeling was soon to follow. Even if the kid was only ten.

"No, that's enough," Val shook her head. "This shit was expensive."

She apparently had to waste half her paycheck buying organic groceries from now until God knew when.

"You're gunna be late for the bus anyway. Go, go, go—your lunch is on the kitchen counter."

He veered around her and managed to steal two more slices behind her back, along with his lunch on his way out the door.

"Bye, nerd-bucket," he called over his shoulder.

"I hope your coach makes you run suicides today!" she called after him. But she stayed in the kitchen with her coffee and scrolled through the news on her phone. Dick Roman was apparently opening up a new factory in Manhattan and another in Maine.

 _Guess I'm not going to a Broadway show anytime soon._

Her phone started vibrating in her hands, the call showing a number she'd almost deleted a half-dozen times. She sighed heavily and wondered if it was worth screening.

"Hello?" she answered reluctantly.

" _Val, I get that we ain't supposed to be connecting lines, but something's happened._ "

"Why the hell are you calling me, Dean?" Val demanded. "Why can't you just leave me the fuck alo—"

" _Look, we just need some help,_ _ **all right**_ _?_ " Dean interrupted her loudly, but then his voice fell, betraying his worry, and for the first time, Val heard genuine vulnerability from him. " _My brother's been hit by a car_."


	2. While You Were Sleeping, Part I

**AN: So it's been a slow start to this, but I'm writing again and will be able to update chapters more regularly if there are still people out there interested. Thanks to aubrey1 for reviewing, and many others of you who followed/favorited.**

xXx

 **Someplace I've Never Been**

.

 _Chapter II:_ **"Sorry if I Stared While You Were Sleeping, Part I"**

 _The Levee Breaks_

.

Her phone started vibrating in her hands, the call showing a number she'd almost deleted a half-dozen times. She sighed heavily and wondered if it was worth screening.

"Hello?" she answered reluctantly.

" _Val, I get that we ain't supposed to be connecting lines, but something's happened._ "

"Why the hell are you calling me, Dean?" Val demanded. "Why can't you just leave me the fuck alo—"

" _Look, we just need some help,_ _ **all right**_ _?_ " Dean interrupted her loudly, but then his voice fell, betraying his worry, and for the first time, Val heard genuine vulnerability from him. " _My brother's been hit by a car_."

Her mouth dropped in shock, and in that moment her brain was completely blank as she tried to entertain the idea of that moose of a man being physically hurt. It was impossible, really, but there was no mistaking the anxiety in Dean's voice. She sat down at her kitchen table. _Hard_.

With the hand not holding her cell phone to her ear, she rubbed at her face and sighed.

"Look, Dean—"

" _Hey, I know. I wouldn't be doin' this if I didn't have any other options. But my daughter trusts you._ "

And there went the nail the proverbial coffin of her soul. Because _**damn**_ _ **it**_ , he knew just where to hit it.

" _If I can't be there, I want her to feel safe._ "

"I felt safe once," Val challenged, her hackles rising again. "You know, I knew when I _met_ you there was something off…but I trusted you. My little brother idolized you, _and_ Sam for that matter."

" _I know_ ," Dean admitted." _And if I were you I'd still be pissed._ "

* * *

 _ **Now:**_

 _ **Two Months Later.**_

.

Val smoothed the faded white sheets down across his chest (a decently broad and hard chest, she noted), but was gentle as she laid his arms over the sheets and the light crocheted quilt.

"I brought this from home, just so you know," she told him as she held the edge of the old blue quilt. "Don't know why they insist on cranking the AC all the time."

Even if he couldn't actively appreciate the clean sheets, she was sure he was more comfortable now. His stubbled face somehow seemed more peaceful than before…or maybe that was just her brain trying to invent things to keep her from going bored out of her mind.

"Anyway, yeah. I told him no, by the way," she nodded sharply. Then she sat down in her usual chair at his bedside, tapped a finger on her lower lip as she stared at his face. "I almost hung up on him on principle alone…until Dean finally let it slip that there was more wrong with Sam than just the accident. There was something… _wrong_ with him."

Val shook her head.

"And I knew, you know? Elena was just gunna keep trying to take care of Bobby and Annie, and now Sam by herself," she said. It came out like a sigh. "Meanwhile, Dean was playing hero, scouring all over God's green earth for something to help his brother. So what the hell was I supposed to do?"

* * *

 _ **Then.**_

.

She couldn't help it. She called in sick from work, had Matt stay with friends for the weekend, and made the drive south. But it wasn't Elena who opened the door to her own house.

"Jody, what are you…what the _hell?_ " Val exclaimed. Her own aunt, Jody Mills stood there with a gun being re-holstered on her belt. She had her police uniform on, so she must've still been on-call.

"Uh, yeah. This might be a little tough. Come on in," Jody sighed and ushered her in. Val glared at her, but stepped inside to see a vacant living room. She thought she could hear voices arguing in the kitchen though.

"Is _this_ why you couldn't take Matt for a couple days?" Val hissed quietly. "You know the Winchesters too, don't you?"

"Look, I'm here as a friend to Bobby Singer. And yeah, as a favor to Elena and those boys," Jody said. She reached out and laid a motherly hand on Val's arm. "Hey, I know you're going at it with them right now, and I get it. But they're going through a rough time…that's why you're here, right?"

Val just shook her head, unable to answer. She _hated_ when the woman was right (which was always).

The hot retort she was ready to fire back was interrupted when Elena finally came out of the kitchen with a tray, balancing a bowl of soup and crackers. Bobby rolled after her in a wheelchair, a surly look on his face.

"Ready?" Jody asked. Elena perked up after she set down the tray in front of the TV for her uncle. She caught Val's gaze, but quickly shifted back to Jody.

"Yeah, please. I already put Annie down for her nap, just so you know," she said with a grateful smile. She turned to Bobby then. "I'll be back in a couple hours, okay."

Bobby stared back her for a moment, but eventually he nodded. Jody pulled up the reclining chair next to him so she could help put the spoon in his paralyzed hand. It hurt Val to watch, but she drew near to set a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, old man. Miss me?" Bobby grunted roughly, but the corner of his mouth lifted in an exasperated sort of smile. "You never call anymore. Thought you forgot about me."

She kissed his cheek and made sure he knew she was coming back after she and Elena took care of their business. He just nodded and turned back to Jody, who he just barely allowed to help him eat his lunch. Val could see it all in his eyes—reluctance, embarrassment…

Elena grabbed her purse, stuffing it with a few zip-locked bags before she grabbed her keys and the two of them were out the door and driving seventy miles per hour in her Camaro.

"So where is this place?" Val finally asked, after she was bored sick of the stiff silence.

"Not too far," Elena said. She bit her lip as she sent a careful glance. "I'm sorry Dean called you. Don't know why the hell he did that."

Val scoffed. "You know exactly why."

Elena didn't answer at first. She gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"Why'd you come?" she asked eventually. It was Val's turn then, to not really have an answer. She stared out the passenger side window and tried not to think about what they were going to see when they got to St. Mary's Institute of Mental Health.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she said.

"Yeah. I would," Elena retorted. "Look, I get it. You hate me. Then why do you keep showing up?"

Val glared at her right back. "I'm not doing it for you."

"Then what?"

"Maybe I feel sorry for Annie. She's the one who has to grow up with—"

"All right, shut your mouth," Elena said flatly, but Val could see the anger brimming just under the surface. "Or I'm gunna kick you out right here, and you can hitchhike back to Sioux Falls."

Val looked over at her, begrudgingly impressed. It wasn't often Elena snapped back at her; between the two of them, Val had always been the hothead. She fought the urge to grin a little.

" _Got it_?" Elena asked, not looking away from the road. Val hid her mouth behind her hand and nodded.

"Got it, Mr. T. No complaints here."

Elena shot her a look, one that soon faded into a similar smirk before she turned her eyes back to the stretch of highway in front of them.

* * *

Elena was getting to the end of her rope, Val could tell. She could see it in the other woman's eyes, the dark circles underneath. And how quickly she lost her patience with the psych ward staff, who claimed Sam wasn't fit for visitors.

"I wouldn't advise it," Dr. Kadinsky said. He turned more cautious when he noticed the growing fury in Elena's eyes, despite her otherwise cool exterior. "His episodes are extreme. He may be…volatile, if he suffers another hallucination."

"Has he reacted violently so far?" Elena asked. Her voice was flat and steady, but Val was actually getting a little worried she might deck the guy.

"No, but…his hallucinations have been very disturbing to him."

"Are you afraid of him, doctor?" Elena's frank question seemed to catch him off guard. His eyes shifted.

"Well, it's just a safety precaution. We—"

"Because right now," Elena shifted forward just slightly into the man's personal space. "You should be more afraid of _me_. I'm not leaving here until you open that door and let me see my brother-in-law."

Kadinsky met the smaller woman's stare for all of three and a half seconds before he sighed deeply. He signed off on the visitation with the condition that a security guard be present in the room—something she nearly fought back against, but Val touched her arm, reminding her that it was just important that they see Sam at all.

He was awake when they finally got into room 008, and laid on the bed staring up at the ceiling. He looked surprised as all hell when they came in, all wide eyes and crunched brows.

Sam looked like shit.

"She almost raised hell to get us back here," Val nodded at Elena, who was already unpacking the homemade sandwiches she brought for him.

"All for this?" he asked in amusement. Elena handed him a card made out of pink construction paper that had animal stickers and purple hearts drawn all over it. He took it with a shaking hand, and he ducked his head after Val could see his eyes start to get a bit misty. Over his shoulder she could read the childish scrawl: _Uncle Sammy. Come home soon. Lots of love, Annie._

* * *

"You didn't have to come, Lena," Sam said after a while. Elena opened one of the plastic baggies and handed him a sandwich.

"Shut up," she said.

" _Mmm. Spicy_." Sam glared as he looked just beyond her to the figment commentating from his little corner of the room. _Shut. Up_ , he thought fiercely.

Elena grabbed his chin and brought his attention back to her. "Hey."

Lucifer chuckled. " _She's cute._ "

Despite the peanut gallery, Sam finally felt like he could relax with her there. At least, just a little. He watched her sad eyes dim as she looked at him fully for the first time. She turned his face to the left, then the right.

He knew he was a rough sight, but he still hated that look in her eyes anyway. He closed his when she held his face in her hands, gentle and almost motherly. Her thumbs soothed under his eyes, and he heard her sigh. When he next opened his eyes, there were tears in hers.

"Just hold on a little longer, okay?" she said. Sam let out a long sigh. He hadn't slept in days. Weeks. Who really knew anyway.

"I'm tired."

"Keep fighting, Sam. Because your brother's out there fighting tooth and nail for you."

She hugged him close then, tightly, and he appreciated that she didn't treat him like some frail thing whose bones were going to snap like twigs. It was familiar, and he was grateful for it. He almost didn't have the strength to hug her back though.

"It's gunna be okay," she said thickly. "We're getting you help, so you can rest."

* * *

Dean drove down the interstate at nearly ninety miles an hour. Every now and then he had to glance over at the "faith healer" in the passenger seat calling himself _Emmanuel_. Except for the fuzzy sweater, he looked everything like the angel who turned on Dean and accidentally released ancient evil dicks out of Purgatory—once upon a time.

"So Daphne," Dean said, referring to the woman that a demon was holding hostage to get to this Castiel-look-alike for none other than the King of Hell. Dean shook his head. _Crowley, that dickbag_.

He would've taken the guy and made a new project out of him (which would've probably included varying forms of fucked up torture, at the very least), and Sam and Dean wouldn't have known a thing about it. _Not that it wouldn't 'a served him right._

"Is that, uh...your wife?" Dean asked, after catching Emmanuel's attention.

"She found me and cared for me," he nodded. Dean frowned.

"Meaning?"

"Oh, it's a...strange story," Emmanuel said with a small quirk of his lips. "You may not like it."

Dean shot him a glance. "Believe me, I will."

Emmanuel hesitated, but eventually he nodded. "A few months ago, she was hiking by the river and I wandered into her path, drenched and confused...and unclothed. I had no memory. She said, God wanted her to find me."

Dean let himself take that in, all the while forcing down the remnants of anger and the cold irony at the mention of "God" being any part of this little story. As long as he was on board to help Sam, he would have to stow everything else until his brother's head got fixed.

Then again, it was Cas's fault it was busted in the first place.

"So who named you Emmanuel?" Dean asked. Though he could guess, with the images of Daphne's crucifixes on the walls of her house popping up in his head.

"A website called 'Bouncy Baby Names,'" Emmanuel smiled slightly. Dean barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

"Well, it's working for you," he said instead. "Must be weird not knowing who you are."

"It's my life, and it's a good life," Emmanuel nodded. Dean couldn't help another snide glance.

"Yeah, well, what if you were some kinda, I don't know...bad guy?" he hedged. Emmanuel frowned, looking a bit troubled by the thought.

"Oh I...I don't feel like a bad person," he said. But his blue eyes held onto that question long enough that Dean felt a little satisfaction.

* * *

In order to let Sam rest for a while, Val and Elena went upstairs to the hospital food court and bought some subs. After the long drive and hours without eating, Val tore into her turkey sandwich. Elena only picked at her salt-and-vinegar chips after a few bites.

"Not hungry?" Val asked, nodding at the other woman's nearly full plate. "Must really be the apocalypse then."

Elena sighed. "I can't. My stomach's rolling just looking at it."

Val just looked at her for a moment. She realized then just how much disturbing shit Elena had seen, not only by having been a hunter for all these years, but also by being so integrated with the Winchesters and Bobby Singer. Now that Val knew the truth, she hardly wanted to leave her apartment (or even let her little brother go to soccer practice). But to actively _seek it out_? It was amazing they were all still alive, that they were even sane.

...Or, well, Sam made a lot more sense now.

"You're really not scared of someone who sees Lucifer?" She whispered, but Elena still eyed their surroundings before she answered, her lips pursed.

"I've dealt with his hallucinations before," she muttered.

" _What?_ " Val's voice rose, and Elena shushed her.

"Look, I've only been afraid of that man once in my life, and I got over it." She shook her head stubbornly. "I _know_ Sam. He just needs some help—"

"And that's another thing," Val retorted. "Where the hell is Dean? What kind of cure is he expecting to find out _there_ for someone in _here_?"

* * *

Dean kicked the greasy-looking man into the glass door of the refrigerator behind him, then followed up by slamming the demon-killing knife into his gut. The demon's eyes flashed out in sparks, but Dean was already moving on to the next aisle, where two more were coming at him.

The ensuing scuffle had Dean on the floor with the knife thrown away from him. But before he could prepare himself to block some more inevitable hits to the face, the demon standing over him screamed with pain and flickered out as the knife was shoved into his spinal cord, while the second demon was already smoking out of the possessed body it was inhabiting.

"Emmanuel, you son of a bitch," Dean snapped. "I told you to wait in the car!"

The dead body fell to the ground, revealing a familiar brunette and her smirking face.

"Emmanuel? Yeah, not so much."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Meg."

"Dean, Dean, Dean," the demon tisked. "You got some splanin' to do."

"Right," he scoffed, and quickly got back onto his feet.

She followed him out of the convenience store after he closed it up and motioned for Emmanuel to stay in the car. Meg crossed her arms and explained—with her usual delightful sass—how she'd been trailing the not-so-dead Castiel, as well as trying to steer clear of Crowley.

"Rumors of this wandering healer are strictly low-level," she said. "But the body count's getting high enough to change that. Folks start poking around, they sniff angel dust."

"Yeah, and they start falling over themselves tryin' to tell Crowley," Dean made the next logical step.

Meg nodded and rose a brow. "Now picture Crowley with his hands on harmless little amnesia-Cas."

Dean had, and he'd already decided it wasn't going to happen if he could prevent it. As angry as he still was...

"Don't get me wrong," Meg said, "I'm gunna burn that smarmy dick. My time's coming. But right about now, my army-of-one situation's not cutting it. It's cold out here, there's a price on my ass, and I need friends."

"Yeah, I get that. But I ain't it," Dean shook his head. No way he was giving back up to this black-eyed-bitch.

"That's where you're wrong, Dean," she smirked. "'Cause I'm here to help you, and that makes us friends."

Dean resisted for a few more verbal volleys back and forth, but like it or not though, he could use some backup if he was going to be jumped by demons every fifty miles. He agreed to let her tag along until they reached Sam, but that was the only truce he was about to make.

He got his knife back from Meg, and she hopped in the backseat while Emmanuel stared back with wide eyes, likely startled by seeing the demon's true face.

"It's okay, we come in different flavors," she teased him. He sent a questioning look to Dean, who sighed as he got in the driver's seat.

"She's, uh, a friend," he said.

"Meg," she introduced herself with an easy smile. "Just here for moral support. I mean, after all, we go way back."

At Dean's warning look, she clarified, "Dean and me. Just met you, of course. But I think we're gunna be friends too."

"All right, let's go." Dean revved the engine and pulled out of the gas station and back onto the road.

A couple more awkward-filled hours of driving and they made it back over the state line of South Dakota. Dean parked outside the hospital and got out of the car, but it didn't take long for him to notice the odd number of people standing outside the emergency entrance, just waiting.

"Oh, gracious," Emmanuel whispered next to him, making something solid drop into Dean's stomach.

"Damn it," Meg hissed. "Demons."

"All of them?" Dean asked. Worry gripped him as he slid his phone out of his pocket and found his girlfriend's number.

"No grass growing under _your_ feet," Meg snarked.

"How many of those knives do you have?" Emmanuel asked.

"Just the one," Dean said as the line kept ringing. _Come on, woman. Pick up already._

Emmanuel looked between him and Meg. "Well, then forgive me, but what do we do?"

"Yeah, Dean," Meg drawled. "Got any other ideas how we could blast through that?"

Dean glared at her in warning, but he held up a finger when the line on his cell finally stopped ringing.

" _Hey_ ," Elena answered.

"Please tell me you're home already," he said.

" _No, we're still at the hospital. Why? What's happening?_ "

"Got a horde of Crowley's groupies outside the hospital."

" _What?_ _ **Why?**_ "

Dean sighed and moved away from Emmanuel. Meg followed suit after he motioned her over. "Long story short, I found Cas. Except he doesn't remember who he is."

" _I'm guessing the demons don't know that_ ," Elena said. " _Or they do, and that's all the better to catch him._ "

"Exactly, so watch your back. There could be a few already inside," he said. "You're with Sammy now, right?"

Elena hesitated. " _No, but we're going back to his room now. Val, come on._ "

"Jesus," Dean pinched his nose. He felt a headache coming on. "Okay. Lena, we're gettin' in somehow, all right?"

" _Be careful, Dean,_ " she told him, and he could hear her worry just as much as her warmth.

"Yeah, you too." He hung up, and Emmanuel was close behind him, getting the side-eye from Meg.

"I gather we know each other," he frowned.

Meg grinned. "Just a dollop."

Dean _really_ didn't want to do this, didn't want to tell him the truth and potentially set him off the deep end, but they needed angel power and they needed it. _Now_.

* * *

"Where the hell is he?" Elena demanded. "If he's not in his goddamn room, where the hell did you take him?"

Dr. Kadinsky hastily checked the sheets on his clipboard. "He was signed out for treatment…this is my signature, but I didn't sign this."

"What kind of morons do you have working here?" Val asked. She could tell Elena was about to have a coronary if competent answers weren't doled out soon.

"What _kind_ of treatment?" Elena exclaimed.

"Just for some physical therapy that helps alleviate psychosomatic symptoms Sam was having. He should be just fine, Mrs. Whitman." Kadinsky rose a placating hand. Too bad it didn't put either woman at ease. "Just follow me, we'll go see him together."

He led them down the corridor and down a flight of stairs, which Val thought was a little weird. Why would a physical therapy room be in the basement, even below the psych ward? There was a big gray door all the way at the end of the hall, and the closer they got to it, the more uneasy she felt.

The doctor by all means seemed normal, his brows supposedly furrowed by worry for his patient.

But Val glanced over at Elena, who had a hand in her purse like she was looking for something. Her eyes were focused and she looked…not just tense. It was a look like Val had never seen on her.

"Doctor?" Elena asked. She put a hand on the man's arm to bring them all to a stop towards the end of the hall.

Just as quickly with her other hand, she pulled a canister of salt from her purse and dumped it in a line across the floor, separating them all from the door.

Dr. Kadinsky's hand shot out to pull Elena close, before he shoved her _hard_ against the wall.

Val screamed involuntarily as Kadinsky smirked over at her, flashing his coal black eyes.

It gave Elena the opening she needed to knee the demon hard in the side, just underneath the ribs, and immediately start stuffing his mouth full of some good old-fashioned sea salt.

" _Eat it_ , you bastard!" she ground out, and started rattling off words in a language Val only vaguely recognized as Latin. She watched, wide-eyed and afraid, as the demon choked on the salt and fiercely shut his eyes, like the words were causing him pain to hear.

Elena didn't stop whatever mantra she was spewing, not until agonized male screams could be heard from down the hall, past that gray door.

"Sa—" Elena was cut off by the demon attempting to cut off her windpipe, the doctor's hand closed around her neck like a vice. He smirked as his grip once again forced her against the wall and off her feet. She clawed at his hand as she struggled for air.

"Val!" she managed to gasp.

Val, finally snapping out of her frozen state of shock, looked down at the forgotten canister of salt.

She scrambled for it, got it in her shaking hands, and she pelted the demon with the fine grains, right in the eyes.

" _Goddamn_ _it_ ," he screamed, and elbowed her in the face for her trouble.

Val fell back, tripping and ending up on her ass. But it was enough of a distraction that Elena could send a sharp kick between the demon's legs. It hissed in pain.

"Oh, you _**bit**_ —"

Elena didn't wait for him to finish that lovely sentiment. Instead she brought his face cracking onto her raised knee.

With a grunt of pain, Kadinsky fell back against the wall, where an angel's hand covered the demon's face and obliterated the dark presence from the body. The familiar dark-haired figure stood in front of Val, obscuring her vision of the doctor until his body landed in a lifeless, eyeless heap on the floor.

"Sam's back there, go!" she heard Elena shout, heard the heavy footfalls of Dean and others charge past. But all she could see was the good doctor and his empty eye sockets.

Then Elena's face blocked that delightful view, her worried gray eyes staring into hers.

"Val." She felt the other woman's hands on her cheeks, pulling stray auburn hair away from her bruised face. " _Valerie May!_ "

"What?" Val finally snapped, but she knew she wasn't fooling anyone. She was a shaking, crying, pitiful mess, and she went willingly into the warm embrace that felt too much like a sister.

* * *

They found Sam in a large room in the hospital's basement used mostly for storage. He was strapped to a table, connected to an outdated machine used for electroshock therapy. By the time they reached him, the faith healer Emmanuel's memory had already been restored to Castiel, angel of the Lord, who could hardly stomach to continue living with the weight of his guilt.

But he stowed it until they could bring Sam back to room 008. Sam himself was unresponsive, staring at nothing while the devil's torment continued inside his mind. Castiel saw all that Sam was seeing, and he tried to evaluate the state of his soul, to see if the walls could be replaced.

It wasn't good.

"What do you mean, you _can't_?" Dean asked. He stood near his brother's bed with Elena, and the woman named Valerie. The demon Meg was waiting outside, covering for them should anyone try to disturb them.

"I mean, there's nothing left to rebuild."

"Why not?"

"Because it crumbled," Castiel said, trying to convey all the remorse he felt. "The pieces got crushed to dust by whatever's happening inside his head right now."

"So you're saying there's nothing?" Dean asked. "That he's gunna be like this until his candle blows out?"

Elena tried in vain to wipe her tears as she stared up at him, pleading with him silently to do something. Her thoughts were so loud in her head, Castiel couldn't help but overhear.

She didn't want Dean to lose his brother, he discerned. But even more, she didn't want to lose her family. Not any more than she'd already lost.

And Dean.

Well, it was even more obvious what the man was thinking.

"I'm sorry. This isn't a problem I can make disappear, and you know that." Castiel thought desperately though, searching for anything _at all_ he could do. If he could just…

 _Wait_. A thought occurred to him, formed slowly in his mind until he was sure of it.

"But," he trailed. _It'll work_. "I may be able to shift it."

"Shift?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, it would get Sam back on his feet." Castiel nodded to himself. _It has to be done._

"It's better this way," he continued, and sat down on the edge of Sam's bed beside the man. "I'll be fine."

Sam flinched when Castiel reached out to him. Dean quickly came up then on the other side of the bed.

"Wait, Cas. What're you doing?"

"Now, Sam, this may hurt," Castiel was gentle, but persistent as he laid a hand on Sam's head. "And if I can't tell you again…I'm sorry I ever did this to you."

* * *

Sam froze at the touch, until a white-hot pain seared up the back of his neck. His whole body felt hot, and the black current of pain traveled from his head, back down his neck, to Castiel's hand and up the angel's arm and neck.

Sam had to gasp for breath as whatever that current was that had been pressing down so hard on him finally let him breathe. Lucifer was nowhere in sight.

"Sam?" Dean was suddenly there with a hand heavy on his shoulder that filled Sam with relief.

"Dean!" Then he realized Castiel was there too, wide-eyed and staring right through him.

"Cas? Cas, is that you?" Sam asked. The angel gasped and stood from the bed. He nearly tripped on his feet trying to back away and ended up bracing his back against the wall.

Elena came up on Sam's left side, where the angel had been. She shared a short but meaningful look with Sam and Dean before turning back to Castiel.

"Cas, are you all right?" she asked softly.

The angel sunk to the ground and held his hands to his ears, bowing his head against whatever he was hearing.

Sam glanced over and finally noticed Val, who stared at the broken angel with what was probably both fear and pity. She looked up at the brothers with that same conflict in her eyes.

"What now?"


End file.
